The Moaning Lisa Wasn't Painted In a Day
by suicidejane
Summary: Steve puts out an ad for a nude model... Billy answers. Or the fic where Steve can't seem to draw a dick.


"Steve I really think you should reconsider, it's gonna be a lot of fun." Jonathan whines once more fiddling with his camera all the while. Steve rolls his eyes in return.

They walk toward the art building. It's 6 pm and Steve heads toward the only place where he can get some peace from his ex-roommate. Jonathan respects his art because he has his own. Steve thanks God for it.

"I don't want to be trapped being the 5th wheel at couples night."

"It's game night, and you haven't been over in a long time. Nancy really misses you." Steve scoffs at that.

"I bet it really cooks your grits she still says that," Steve says trying to balance all his supplies and get inside the building. Jonathan holds the door open for him. He gives Steve a genuine yet hurt look; Steve feels bad.

"You know I'm not worried about you and Nancy, right? You're a great guy, and my best friend next to Nance." Jonathan sounds heartbroken that Steve suspects otherwise. Right as Steve opens his mouth to apologize he gets cut off. "Especially not after that Christmas party. You sucking off that deputy in the bathroom was unforgettable."

Steve almost drops his massive sketchpad. His face morphs into a faint shade of pink. Jonathan's smirk is as wide as Indianapolis itself. Steve also sees something in Jonathan's eyes, a little darker, very much akin to need; Steve's stomach rolls.

He laughs uncomfortably trying to put some distance between them. They take the stairs two at a time. Steve's late and Jonathan's not helping. He throws open the set of double doors before turning to face his companion.

"Listen, I have to sketch this guy and I don't know how long it's gonna take. If it's quick I'll be there, if not you're on your own with Tommy and Connie-

"Carol."

Steve shrugs not caring. "They're dicks and your friends. If you don't like these people then don't hang out with them, just don't drag me into it."

Jonathan sells every bit of his sad puppy dog face and Steve is the sucker buying it. "I told you if this doesn't take forever I'll be there. The way Tommy and Nance drink you'll be there all night."

Jonathan bites his lip staring a little too long at Steve who shoves him back toward the door. "Get out of here asshole."

"Set your watch, give yourself a few hours and if you're not done by the time it goes off no sweat," Steve grumbles about Jonathan's bossy ways but does it anyway.

Jonathan raises his camera and snaps a photo of Steve before backing out into the stairwell. Steve shakes his head at his friend's antics.

Alone in the hallway, he takes a deep breath but when he does his face scrunches. Something foul radiates through the hallway. Steve follows that smell like a hound dog. He stalks toward 207.

He throws open the door charging in but the sight stops him cold.

A hunk of a man leans against the window. Maybe a smidge shorter than him, the man's body is a monument. A pair of Levi's and a button-down fashion his body like a glove, it should be illegal. Steve tugs at his crew sweater and fidgets in his expensive chinos. Muscle connect from one bulge to the next. If his body isn't an easy sell his face belongs in a magazine. Brooding eyes scour the parking lot below. Steve quaffs his hair even though he doesn't have to. This guy's mullet is second to none.

He snaps out of his trance as a gust of smoke consumes the area. A heavy cough surprises him as he grabs his chest. A normal person might rush to his aid but not this man. He unlatches the window and lazily fans fresh air into the room.

"Sorry princess, does the smoke bother you?" A course sexy voice has Steve coughing even harder. He turns his back, trying to maintain a shred of self-control. After several deep breaths, he whips around to face the man.

The cigarette is nowhere in sight as he closes the distance between them. Steve tries not to falter just as he stops feet away. He clears his throat. The man smug expression burns something nasty in Steve. He feels his apprehension simmer and frowns not wanting this guy to get the best of him. The art college is small enough without people thinking him a pushover.

"I'm sorry but this is a private room, you can't smoke in here, you shouldn't be smoking at all. I don't know how you got in here but this is my studio for the next few hours and I have a model coming in so you need to leave…" Steve feels the words drivel into silence as he studies the man's gorgeous eyes. Stormy blue peepers track his lips more than the words coming out of them.

Steve watches his pearly whites tug at his pouty lip. This is different from Jonathan, Steve wants those lips and teeth to eat him alive. He fights a shiver and the man chuckles.

"Well, that's why I'm here, you said seventy-five bucks, you have me all night princess." Steve's frown deepens.

"You're the model? You're Billy?" The man spreads his arms wide and mocks a twirl with a pose at the end. "Billy Hargrove at your service." Billy grasps Steve's hand in a firm shake. Steve returns in kind. Steve pulls away faster than he expects.

"Uh, did you read in the ad where it said this is a nude shoot," Steve says as he rushes to put down and prep his art supplies.

"We talked about this over the phone Harrington." Steve nods quickly wanting to reiterate the terms and agreement. He hallucinates the sound of clothes rustling and pants unzipping. He mechanically points to a corner behind a curtain.

"You can call me Steve."

Steve frowns when he doesn't hear or see footsteps. He pulls out the last of his supplies and turns. He falls against his station at the sight. Billy's beautiful tan skin is impossible for Indianapolis, Illinois even in the best conditions. The muscles once under his clothes are on display. They layer and connect like jungle vines. Snaking from one part of him to the next, Steve's eyes float down the man's frame.

He feels his mouth water just below the belt. A wealth of dark hair surrounds only what Steve can describe as a baby arm. Long and thick-

"Like what you see?" Billy says as he hops up on the platform striking different macho poses. Steve rubs his eyes in frustration. Maybe walking around will help.

"If you could just be natural, that would be great." Steve adjusts the lights. As he checks the effect he sees Billy with his foot high on a bar stool. Steve looks away, he sees the door. "Do you want me to lock the door? Not that I want to lock the door, I just want you to feel safe. Do you feel safe? I just- if you don't feel-

"Pretty boy, if you don't get your sweet ass in that chair we'll be here through the morning and this is seventy-five a night." Steve laughs at the implication of Billy's words but agrees that he needs to begin.

Steve approaches his workstation and sits, he feels Billy's eyes burning through him.

"How do you want me to stand?" Steve nods.

Steve really tries to keep his voice even."It doesn't matter just be natural, whatever you want is fine."

Because he chooses those words, Billy flips on his hands. He navigates the length of the podium like he owns it. Steve can hardly believe what he's seeing. He about gags when he sees Billy's length smacking back and forth over his belly button. It shouldn't be possible, and Steve can't suppress his hunger.

"Can you stop?"

"You said something natural, well… this is natural."

"You don't walk on your hands, stand up, your face is turning red." Steve praises himself for masking his amazement with boredom.

"Yes mom."

Billy slouches and Steve waits for him to strike a pose but nothing follows. "Why won't you work with me?"

"I am." Billy folds his arms exposing his flair for dramatics.

"So pose!"

"I can't, you won't show me." Steve frowns at the man. "Show me, get up here and _move_ me how you want me to stand." Steve stops himself from balking at the order.

Steve rolls his eyes and hops up on the platform. Breathing harder than necessary as he maneuvers the other man. His hands tremble as he touches warm soft skin. He pushes Billy back until he nudges the stool. He leans Billy against it, moving the man's arms behind him.

He steps back; time to begin.

* * *

Quite sometime later, Steve weaves the pencil across the pad paper. Billy doesn't interrupt the process physically, but a groan causes Steve to drop his pencil.

"Are you okay?"

"Old injury in my hip, sorry." Billy's voice falters and Steve drops his head in remorse.

"I feel like such an asshole, you can move; you should move. Do you want to move?" Steve already approaching, worry wearing his face.

"How about you come rub it for me?" Billy voice hard and gravelly.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm cramping and we need to finish this shit tonight, get over here." Steve stops himself from melting at the demand. He ignores the tightening in his pants, he can't let his dick rule him.

"I don't know what you think this is but-

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you got another minute of my patience. Get your ass over here cupcake or I'm walking, money or not."

Steve doesn't even believe his own body when he's standing in front of Billy extending his hands toward the man's pelvis. His fingers nervously prod the area and Steve looks at Billy for confirmation but only gets this in return. "Warmer… warmer… just a little over to the… mmmm."

Steve freezes at the sound leaving Billy's mouth. He feels his breathing kick up another notch. Just as he pulls away he feels a larger set of hands trap him. He looks down to see Billy holding him in place. Steve doesn't try to jerk away, he allows the fingers to imprison him. He gulps at the sensation.

"I need your hands here," Billy says as he moves Steve's hands painstakingly slow to his length. Steve allows it. He opens his fingers to intercept the vine and releases a shutter that barely leaves him standing.

Billy no longer holds on to the artist who's working himself into a frenzy. Steve moves his hand up and down the wide phallus, his own excitement fighting its constraints. Billy must notice this as he erupts into laughter. "Fucking whore, you might as well get on your knees at this rate. You're loving it."

Steve falls forward at the slander and Billy catches him. Steve feels those massive hands under his sweater, holding his waist steady. "You need to plant your feet Harrington."

The words crawl into Steve's soul and call it home. He can't come back from this, for the rest of his life this man saying those words will make him weak at the knees.

He feels Billy's heavy breaths against his ear fogging his brain. "You look drunk," Billy says referring to the glassy look in the other man's eye. Underneath all the bravado he can see that this fuels Billy.

"Knees now." Steve drops to the floor without another a second to think. His mouth leaks saliva at the corners. He opens wide.

He gathers as much of Billy's dick as he can into his mouth. He groans. Billy's meat fills him to the point of choking. Even as he's ready to gag he keeps going. Billy's hand grips his brown locks, commanding Steve deeper into his lap.

Steve pushes at Billy's strong thighs, straining against the hold on his hair and in his pants. His glassy eyes water even more. His throat heaves against Billy's forceful movements. Their eyes meet. Steve a blushing mess of tears and Billy a raging storm: his face tense, his eyes bottomless pits of passion.

Billy's hold is enough to pull out his hair but Steve doesn't care. His tongue sweeps the length and his mouth becomes a suction, pulling at the head each time they just about breach his lips. Wet sucking noises and grunts fill the room.

Steve is harder than a rock. Rubbing his shaft into his chinos it isn't enough, and he doesn't need both his hands. Just as he moves, Billy slaps them away.

"Fuck you! This is mine, you don't get to touch yourself unless I say so. You fucking slut, look at you! So fucking dick hungry!" Billy shoves him out the way. He lands on the ground his hips grinding into the floor with need.

"Like a fuckin bitch in heat, oh I got something for that shit! Fucking gagging on my dick like it was your last meal." Steve feels Billy above him yanking at his clothes. He feels the cool air against his hot skin; it makes him shutter. Without prompting, in contrary to all things decent... he begs.

"Please, please, fuck me, put it in, fuck me, I need it!"

"Eager beaver, you want this dick? Well, you're just gonna have to tell me what a slut you are and maybe I'll let you have it." Steve trembles, he toots his ass up to meet the wet hard dick probing the area but Billy isn't letting him off so easy. "DO IT!"

"Please, I'm a fucking slut, please give me your dick, I need you to fill me up, fucking break me." That's all it takes. Billy goes still above him but Steve continues to wiggle in need.

SMACK! A firm slap on the ass has him high enough for Billy to make his move. He angles his dick for the puckering hole.

Steve cries out at the lack of prep but neither man caves. Steve wants to be broken and Billy's here to oblige him. It takes a few tries but Billy plants himself inside Steve. He groans at the grip treatment Steve gives him — hands down the tightest man he's ever been with.

Steve can't block out the obscene smacking noises filling his ears, it's wet and filthy. At this point, Steve is a blubbering mess, with Billy at his back him driving into him hard and fast. Steve's unreliable limbs rock and tremble at the assault. SMACK! Steve arches again.

"I know bitches with better balance, plant yourself!" SMACK… PUMP… SMACK… PUMP… SMACK… PUMP… SMACK… PUMP…

White dots paint his vision, his mouth hangs open with his tongue lapping out like a dog. He doesn't know how long they can keep this up but it isn't much longer. Because he's not only amazing at sex but a mind reader, Billy shifts a hand under Steve and grips him.

"Harder! Please!" Billy rewards his ability to stay on his hands and knees by snapping his hips harder into the man beneath him.

Steve preens at the attention. His ass takes a pounding so bad he won't be able to sit while his penis is on a crash course with ecstasy. Steve decides as this stranger takes him raw he wants to spend eternity like this-on his knees. Fuck heaven if he's going to hell for this.

"Ready princess." Billy's voice is a wreck but so is Steve. He can barely fetch a nod as Billy begins to drive him into over and over. His digs Steve out so good they both crash to the floor. That doesn't stop Billy, he keeps thrusting. They ruin each other, pounding, thrashing and moaning into completion.

Steve fires off first, spurting into Billy's hand which handles his cock like a trophy. Then he feels it. A warm flood fills him, Billy's dick pulsates inside him. String after string coats his insides and Steve wouldn't have it any other way.

Riding out the waves, Billy pins Steve to the floor, rolling his hips; Steve whimpering into submission. Desperate for air the two pant and gasp. Billy rolls off the leaner man and onto his back as Steve stretches out on the platform.

* * *

No longer naked the two clean up, well Steve cleans up. Billy checks out Steve's work. He flips through page after page, each drawing better than the last. Steve approaches him, gazing over his shoulder; Billy rests at the sketch of the hour.

He studies the drawing; it's rough with smudge marks. Dull impressions stretch over sharper ones. Steve's nowhere near done but Billy can't take his eyes off it. A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. His eyes scan the photo, the drawing jumps off the paper, especially one spot in particular. Hesitation, worry, and insecurity show through the eraser marks. Billy's face hardens. "You're a better artist than you think."

"I do okay." Billy whips around to face him. Steve watches the man's face his loins stir in need.

"You're good, I mean what I say… you'll learn." This time he's the one to take the initiative, stepping into the other man's space. His hand lowers the pad for both of them to see. Billy holds it as if he's protecting it. Steve tries not to ruin it all because he didn't expect it and it's all too perfect.

"Okay… sorry I couldn't get this part right."

Billy puts the pad down and leans forward to fill the space between them. "All in due time, the Moaning Lisa wasn't painted in a day."

Steve laughs too hard but Billy doesn't seem to care. A lazy smile plays on his lips as he watches. The laughter fades out and Steve closes his eyes in anticipation, his lips jut out in waiting. He doesn't see the smirk or the crossing arms-

BEEP! BEEP!

The sound causes them both to jump. It's Steve's watch. Party time. His head drops in devastation but then he remembers that he doesn't have to go alone.

"I know this is a little weird seeing as we already… you know. My friends are having a small get together and I sort of need a date. You kinda did say I have you for the night."

* * *

Jonathan snatches open the door revealing Steve on the other side, his mild expression picks up at the sight. Steve smiles. Steve makes it through an overly long hug hoping that he doesn't smell too bad. They pull away, he combs his hair back and Jonathan watches. Steve gets ready to clear his throat but a looming presence beats him to it.

Out of his peripheral Steve sees Billy's long arm grip the wood panel, and the muscular body amid his own. He doesn't betray his lover by catching his eye because he doesn't have to. Steve can feel the pull Billy has on him, not to mention the evidence of unsaid possession running down the crack of his ass. Time freezes for Steve as he waits it out and luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait long.

"What are you guys doing out in the hallway? Steve who is this?" Nancy says appearing at the door.

The answer burns his lips so much so that he can't say it so Billy does for him. "I'm his muse…" he looks at Jonathan. "And his date tonight. Mind if I crash the party?"


End file.
